


In A Galaxy Far, Far Away, There Were S'mores

by Dylanobrienisbatman



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Consent, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Getting to Know Each Other, Nerds in Love, Non-Graphic Smut, Season/Series 05, Storytelling, bellarke and memori are minor, pirate mechanic, the enemies bit last like 12 seconds, zeke is a good person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 21:57:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylanobrienisbatman/pseuds/Dylanobrienisbatman
Summary: Raven and Zeke find each other in this new world, and when theyre wrapped in each other, legs tangled up, all soft skin and warmth, he tells her stories about his life in the 21st century





	In A Galaxy Far, Far Away, There Were S'mores

When Raven landed on the ground, surrounded by hulking prisoners with an ax to grind, a shock collar around her neck and fear burning up her spine, she wasn’t sure ever leaving the arc was a good idea. They had been safe, well fed, surrounded by people they loved, they could have lived there until a ripe old age and been perfectly content. Instead, they had hopped over to a giant prisoner transport ship, woken a literal sleeping beast, killed a man for the first time in almost a decade, and she had been separated from her friends as they hurtled towards some unknown earth while she and Murphy stayed behind to maybe commit another genocide, maybe not, depending on how Bellamy’s admittedly sort of ridiculous plan went when he got to earth. She ended up in a hacking war with some dickhead who was already on earth, trying to fight her for dominance over the cryosleep containers, and when they couldn’t beat her, Bellamy had made some sort of semblance of peace, enough to prevent her from having to kill 283 people, and the people on the ground had woken up the sleeping prisoners, and the next thing she knew, she and Murphy were chained up, hurtling towards earth, and she thought maybe… they should have just stayed in the Ring.

They had shocked her twice before they realised that she wasn’t really too bothered. She grunted in pain, and then snarled at them with bared teeth. But then they turned on Murphy, and she had yelled, anger laced with fear, because he was her person, and he couldn’t bear to see him hurt, and they realised her weakness was him, and started lighting up his collar every chance they got. She was sobbing, crying out for him, when the ship settled onto earth. The feeling of real gravity on her bones would have been something she revelled in, if they hadn’t been captives again, and then the door to the ship opened, and a mass of people she didn’t know swarmed in, taking the remote from her captor, dragging her and Murphy along. A man they kept calling McCreary shocked John again, seeming to almost enjoy it, and she saw a younger man, tan skin and a buzzed head, turn away from the display of angry violence. She would take the chance to be mildly interested in that when the damn collar was off and she and Murphy were safe again. They were dragged along, through the woods, and she tried to take a minute to appreciate the trees, the sound of the wind through the leaves, the grass beneath her feet, and the taste of fresh air in her lungs after 6 years, tried to appreciate what the earth smelled like and sounded like and looked like again after so long, but it was a little difficult with the collar around her neck and some unknown fate awaiting them.

They were pulled into a village, bright and colourful, and dropped in front of Bellamy, who immediately ordered the collars off their necks.

“You really need to stop doing that” He said, his voice gruff, glaring at this McCreary character. Raven was about to laugh when she saw her, bright blonde hair with streaks of red, and her words and her breath caught in her throat.

Her reunion with Clarke was heavy, full of tears and hugs and soft touches across each others cheeks, like they were trying to memories these new faces, these new versions of each other. Hell, Murphy even cried, one tear running down his cheek when he hugged her, tight, and laughed into her hair when she told him he wasn’t any uglier than he remembered. They were moved into a big house, just the 7 of them, plus Clarke and a little girl, who called herself Madi, and she sat on the edge of her bed while Clarke wrapped a gauze bandage around the burns on her neck. She noticed similar ones, fading across her neck, and reached up absentmindedly to tap one of the scars gently. Clarke nodded almost imperceptibly, and finished the wrapping. She watched as Clarke wandered back to her bed, which was pushed flush up against another. Raven wondered vaguely if it was Madi’s, but the little girl was tucking into another bed in the corner, and then Bellamy walked in, walking right to the other side of Clarke’s bed, and she couldn’t hide her smile, earning her an eye roll from Bellamy.

She fell asleep almost instantly, finally safe, with her people again, and was woken up the next morning to the door slamming shut on an empty room. She wasn’t sure where everyone else had gone, but she took the minute to stretch, leaning over and plucking her brace from the floor and starting to strap it on, revelling in the silence for second, before the door opened and the mysterious, seemingly sympathetic prisoner stepped inside.

“Charmaine asked where you were, and she wouldn’t let your man Bellamy come back to find you, so he asked me to go.” The fact that Bellamy trusted him to be alone with her made the tension crawling up her spine lessen, just a little. “Get some good sleep?” His voice was nice, soft, with a bit a lilt to it. She glared at him instead.

“Sure. If you think rolling all night trying to find a way to sleep where my neck burns don’t hurt counts as good sleep.” She gave him a pointed stare, testing him.

“Yeah. Sorry. McCreary is a dick, but he’s too valuable for Charmaine to kill him, so she just mostly keeps him as contained as she can.” He seemed unphased by her directness, which she found… startling, and interesting. “You alright, though?” She nodded, begrudgingly.

“I’ve been through worse than this.” Gestured to her brace, half way strapped on, abandoned when a potentially threatening guest had entered the room. She leaned over to restart, and found him kneeling in front of her, strapping above her knee.

“How’d it happen?” Bold first question, when he didn’t even know her name. She admired his tenacity.

“I dont need your help.” She said, fierce and defensive.

“I can see that.” He snarked back, but kept helping. “How’d that happen?” He repeated. She rolled her eyes, but answered him.

“The guy your friends dragged me in with? He shot me in the spine like… 7 years ago?” Her nonchalantness made him laugh through the shock on his face.

“If i remember right, you were pretty concerned about him. How’d that happen?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone whose friends held me and mine hostage.”

“Hey. I didn’t choose this life. And if i want to live i don’t really have much of a choice.” She tossed him a look, one that was her attempt at conveying understanding.

“It was an accident, this whole thing.” He looked confused.

“How does someone accidentally shoot you in the spine?” She laughed. That story would take a long time to tell. She told him as much.

“That story comes with a lot of other information, would take a long time to tell. Just… Murphy was a dick… Is a dick. But we spent 6 years in space together, with only 5 other people. Forgiveness is kind of essential to that. I’m Raven… by the way. Raven Reyes.”

“Wait… so you were on the ground, and you went BACK into space? Ill have to get more of both of those stories sometime. I’m Zeke. Zeke Shaw.”

“You’ll have to earn them.” He smirked, and tightened the last strap, high up her thigh, and she ignored the warm feeling that spread up her thigh and the base of her spine when his fingers finally grazed the part of her skin that had feeling. He helped her stand, and led her outside.

The next week or so, her mornings started like that. He would come into the room when the whole group was gone, and help her strap on her brace, asking her one or two very personal questions, letting his fingers graze a little longer, just a little higher every time. She started trading questions of her own, asking about his team, about what he did to end up in a prison transport ship, about where they came from. He was about as short with his answers as she was.

Weeks turned into months, and the morning traditions stood. The morning she found out he was the one who had tried to hack into the ship she had yelled so loudly Bellamy had come running to her door, and his expression when he found Zeke, kneeling on the ground hands on Raven’s calf, was nothing short of hilarious. Her respect for him after that was unwavering. Anyone who could compete with her and almost win deserved it, after all. She might even be starting to like him. She even let herself admit he was cute, sharp cheekbones, a bit of stubble, a nice square jaw, tall and broad and well built. She’d never tell him that though.

She eventually got her own space, a small hut off on the edge of the camp, next door to Murphy (and Emori, in the night, when they thought no one else was paying attention. They didn’t want anyone to know they had rekindled whatever it was, until they were sure, but she was always up well into the night, tinkering with whatever mechanics she could get her hands on), but Zeke still made an appearance, every morning, helping her strap on her brace. Sometimes, she found herself waiting to put it on when she woke up earlier than normal, lounging around, picking through some dried fruit in her room and reading a bit until he showed up to help tighten the straps up her leg. Everyday, he’d help her, lead her outside, to whatever place, to do whatever she was supposed to be doing, and they’d end up in the mechanics lab, tinkering away, casual conversations tossed back and forth, never delving too deep when other people were around. Two months of that, on the ground, early mornings with this stranger, learning little bits and pieces about him and his life, getting to know him slowly and in private. His fingers would linger on her leg, and he’d bring her treats sometimes in the early morning, tea or dried fruit or little toys to play around with, and her interest only grew. So, one night, sitting around the fire with everyone, she decided she wanted to know a little more.

He caught her eye from across the fire, and she held his eye contact while she got up, dragging her bum leg towards her hut, pressing a kiss into the top of Harpers head as she walked by as a goodnight, letting her fingertips graze the shoulders of the rest of her friends, tugging Murphy’s hair last as she passed him, and made her way to her house. She looked over her shoulder when she got the door, and found him watching her. She held his gaze for another moment, and then opened her door and went inside, lighting the candles around her room for light and settled on her bed, leg outstretched, brace still on, and waited. It only took him about 5 minutes to slip in her door, leaning back against the door frame, pretty in the candle lighting.

“I’m assuming you don’t need help with that.” He nodded towards her leg, teasing her with her own words from their first encounter.

“Actually, my fingers are a bit stiff today…” She let her voice trail off, and he came up close to her, kneeling in front of her. He started near her ankle, untying the first of 6 straps slow and easy like, letting his hands run easy up her legs while he did it. She couldn’t feel it, but she could see it, could imagine what it would feel like, and she appreciated that even though he knew she couldn’t feel it, he took his time, exploring her skin with his hands while he undid every strap. When the brace was off, he set it on the floor, but left his hands on her thigh.

“Still got stiff fingers?” His voice was low, and his eyes dark, and she nodded, a bit breathless. He slid his hands down, and untied her boots, one at a time pulling them off her feet and setting them to the side. She never took her eyes off his face.

“Still got stiff fingers?” He asked again, sliding his hands up her leg towards her hips. She nodded again, letting him slid his hands over and undo her button on her jeans, leaning back on her elbows to lift her hips and let him slide them off, folding them once and setting them on the floor. He put his hands on her thighs again, letting the pads of his fingers trace the skin there, tiny movements that had heat pooling in her belly. He slide his hands up just a little more, to the hem of her underwear, letting the tip of one finger slide under the elastic on her right hip, his eyes never leaving hers. She let her eyes find his mouth, darting back up to his eyes and then back down, and then she just… kissed him.

She surged forward just enough, and he met her in the middle, like he could read her mind, and he tasted like dried cherries and monty’s moonshine, and she smiled into his lips causing him to laugh a little, and they sat with their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed for just a second.

“This is… a real thing, right?” He was cautious with his words, letting their noses brush.

“Yeah… it feels real.” He was her equal, just as smart as her, just as witty and bright and driven. He didn’t agree with his people, and had become HER people over time, only listening to Charmaine when it suited him, following Bellamy and Clarke, and being her partner, in the lab and out of it, always around to help even when he knew she didn’t need it. He challenged her, when he could, but never questioned her, or doubted her. It felt real. “It’s real. Whatever it is… it’s real.” He leaned back in, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue, kissing into her so hard she had to use one hand to stay propped up on the bed, and the other to anchor herself to him, holding his jacket in her fist to keep him close. He slid his lips across her cheek, over under her jaw bone, biting at her ear before licking down her throat.

“Still got stiff fingers?” He asked again, all teasing, as he slid her jacket from her shoulders and found purchase on her collar bone with his mouth, biting softly into her skin, and then he pulled back. She tried to chase after him, but he went too far, leaving her sitting, in nothing but her panties and a t-shirt, a small bruise blooming on her clavicle. He slid his hands up her thighs again, finding the elastic of her panties, his eyes dark, and she swore her soul left her body. She leaned forward, and he caught her in the middle again, and she kissed him, all warm pressure but heavy, wanting, needy almost. He slid his hands under the elastic, pulling them down, laying them on her jeans, and brought her good leg up to his shoulder, kissing from her ankle, slow, wet kisses up to her knee, up to her hip, before lifting her bad leg up to his other shoulder, sliding her to the edge of the bed, and licking into her. She took her time, slowly letting herself lean back onto her bed, letting him bring her to a soft, rolling peak, until she couldn’t handle it anymore, too sensitive for his persistent tongue, tugging on his jacket to bring him up over her to kiss the taste of herself out of his mouth.

“Stiff hands?” She whispered into his mouth, and he laughed into her neck, letting her start to strip off his clothes, his jacket and shirt shed, his jeans shucked down until they hit his boots, and watching him stumble around trying to untie his boots and shuck his jeans at the same time brought her almost to tears, trying to laugh into her hands to keep from making too much noise, and then he was stumbling out of his pants and falling into bed, crawling over her sliding her up to the head of her bed, finding all of her new skin with her mouth as he went, until he found her mouth again. He settled in on top of her, kissing her soft and easy, letting his hands slide over her, finding new skin, travelling down until his fingers found purchase on her centre, sliding into her, his other hand threading into her hair, tugging just enough to expose her neck, letting him bite gently into it, his fingers in her heat bringing her up, up, up, and then backing away, up, up, up, and then backing away, until she was shaking, and then he lined himself, using the hand in her hair to lift her as he slid in, easy, until she was sitting up, letting her wrap her arms around his neck, using his hand to help move her hips, until she was falling apart around him, and he followed her only a few moments later. They stayed like that, for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on his scalp and down his neck, over his shoulders, their feverish kisses slowing to soft, gently ones, until they were just breathing into each other, noses brushing. She stepped off him, finding his t-shirt on the floor, tossing him his underwear and sliding on her own, before tucking back in next to him on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows, tangling their legs together. He leaned up, kissing her softly.

“So… have i earned your story yet?” She smiled. He knew most of their story, they had shared as a group over moonshine one night. He knew about them being sent to earth, about their war with the mountain men, about their fight against ALIE, about her going to space with her friends, but she never really went into her own personal story with the group. She let Bellamy tell it, let Clarke tell it, let Murphy be snarky and Harper tell jokes, and Echo and Emori tell their own stories about Grounders. She kissed his shoulder.

“Tell me about you, tell me about life in the 21st century,” she smiled, biting into his shoulder, “what was it like?”

“You know what i miss the most?” She urged him on, smiling. “The music. There were so many artists, so many great bands. There was so much great old stuff, and the ship still has pretty much anything you could want in its old library, but man… new music? All the time? Sometimes i even miss the radio playing the same 3 songs over and over again.”

“tell me more…”

“When i was a kid, my family and I used to watch these really old movies, Star Wars they were called. There were like 11 or 12 of them, and we used to watch them over and over. The first three came out in the 70’s,” she looked puzzled, “the NINETEEN seventies! They were super old, but so good, about this group of magical people, of all kinds of alien races, it was set in space you see, who fought with laser swords and The Force, this like… magical power that they could control, that connected them all. Carrie Fisher, she played Princess Leia… man. What a babe.” She laughed into his arm. “We used to go on to the Great Lakes, up in Michigan, we’d take these weekend trips. Drive up to the lakes, with sleeping bags and camping stuff, and sleep out on the beach, under the stars. We’d build these huge bonfires, making sausages and s’mores-“

“Whats a s’more?”

She heard him mutter “you’re killing me, smalls” under his breath. “Movie reference, sorry. Ill explain later.” She smiled. “It was this awesome dessert. These sweet crackers, with cinnamon in them, and chocolate, with a marshmallow, which was just this puffy sugar ball basically, you’d catch it on fire and once it was all toasted, you’d squish it between the crackers… it was sticky and so sweet too many would make you sick, but man… Anyway, we’d go out to the lake, and spend all day swimming and playing in the sand, and then we’d build the big fire and eat and sleep under the stars. We’d go until it was too cold to go anymore, me and my moms” He was reminiscent, and it was so endearing.

“Sounds delicious, tell me more about the food! I’ve heard stories that it was all terrible for you.” She tried to make it not so obvious that she was avoiding talking about his family, but he could tell. He looked soft, and grateful. He had told her before that the thing he missed most was his bike, which meant whatever stories there were about his family, they wouldn’t be happy stories.

“Oh man, SO terrible. Well… not all of it. We had vegetables and normal food, obviously. But fries… potatoes, sliced into pi.eces and fried in hot oil, man I could eat my weight in those. And tacos, you’d get them from trucks, slow cooked meat with all kinds of spices, served on warm corn tortillas with cilantro.” She didn’t know a lot of the foods he was talking about, but his nostalgia was so cute she couldn’t be bothered to stop him and ask about any of it.

He told her about his favourite movies, his favourite television shows, his favourite books, sang (terribly) a few bars of his favourite songs, until his voice was slurring with sleep and their bodies were heavy together on the bed. She tucked her face into his neck, and they fell asleep that way, surrounded by each others warm skin, the the soft memories of his life, a life she’d only ever dreamed about, only ever read about in books. She’d share her own stories later.

When they woke up the next morning, still wrapped around each other, his lips found hers again, and the rocked against each other, all warm and slow, easy and gentle, soft crests following each other, and they were pulling on clothes, helping each other, giggling into each others shoulders when he couldn’t tug her jeans up, and when they were fully dressed, he knelt in front of her, and laced up her brace, one strap at a time. He lifted her up off the bed, giving her a chance to wrap her arms up around his neck, kissing him with all she had in her.

“Would you look at that,” she said, zipping his jacket up, “no more stiff fingers.”

“I’m glad i could cure you” he laughed, lacing their fingers together, and walking out into the light, together.


End file.
